


i only talk to angels when i'm lost in a height

by deereynolds



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 09:13:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2145198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deereynolds/pseuds/deereynolds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She steals money from her mom's purse, her dad's wallet, her college fund.  Where ever she can get it.  Sometimes she thinks about robbing a bank.  Some days, she swears she'll do it."</p><p>A look into Jane Margolis' life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i only talk to angels when i'm lost in a height

**Author's Note:**

> time to write some breaking bad.. gonna do jane.. luv her :( ..  
> janes entire life b/c i'm a fucking loser & obsessed w/ her  
> i'm actually kinda proud of this... lol jk i am EXTREMELY proud of this

When she was a kid, people where always telling Jane how lucky she was.  And she was.  From the outside, Jane Margolis had a pretty nice life.  Loving parents, big house, and she was a pretty girl with the world wrapped around her little finger.

But that was outside.  Jane knew better.  Distant mother, smothering father.  Crippling insecurity for such a pretty girl.

\----

When she was 12, she stole a bottle of wine from her mom's collection.  She drank it in the basement, hiding out.  In plan sight, maybe.  It tasted like rotten grape juice, and it was disgusting.  It was nothing like she saw on TV, a teenager takes their first drink and proceeds to freak out like they're swallowing fire.  It was gross sure, but it wasn't hard to swallow.  She should know, she swallows fire everyday of her life.  She got all the way to the bottom of the bottle and felt something she'd never felt before.  Maybe it was inner-peace.  Maybe she was just drunk.  Either way, she didn't want the feeling to go away. 

\----

 _It always goes this way,_ she thinks.   _Girl meets boy, boy's a loser, they do drugs._ Only pot, though.  Not that bad.  And they're in love.  Not bad at all.  People in love do stupid things.  She's 15 and her boyfriends in his 20's, and he sells pot.  She gets it for free though.  She likes it even more than being wasted.  She feels lower.  Like she's already in hell -- which she knows is where she's going. Especially with all the things she's been doing.   She feels a little guilty sometimes.  Sex, drugs, rock-and-roll and all that.  Then there's the lying to her parents and living a fucking double life.  She forgets the guilt when she's high, though.  So she never really has the time to dwell.

\----

 At 17, Jane's in love with someone who doesn't love her anymore.  And on top of feeling like her heart is exploding, she has to find a new place to get pot.  It isn't hard to find a dealer in ABQ.  It took her about 20 minutes, and soon she forgets about her asshole ex-boyfriend and thinks about sleeping with her dealer.  It's a bad idea, and she knows it, and maybe that's why she does it.  

Pot looses it's affect on her and she craves something more.  She fucks her dealer again, asks him if he knows something that'll take her lower.  He does.  Heroin.  And Jane's on board, if only to forget what it felt like to have him inside her.   

She realizes quickly that it's a pain to do heroin.  She watches him go through the steps and tries to memorize them, so she would never need his help again.  She forgets all the steps as soon as the drug kicks in-- she forgets who she is and feels like she's dying.  And it's the best she's ever felt.  The best feeling in the world.

She forces herself to get high alone.  She wants to avoid her shit-bag of a dealer in any circumstances that don't involve her giving him money and receiving drugs.  She wants to pay and get out of there -- not fuck him to get it for free and then stick around and tie off with him.  Not anymore.  She steals money from her mom's purse, her dad's wallet, her college fund.  Where ever she can get it.  Sometimes she thinks about robbing a bank.  Some days, she swears she'll do it. 

She uses the basement to get high.  Hides her stash under the floorboard.  Waits for Daddy Dearest to go to work before doing it, mom never cares enough to see what she's doing down there. 

Things were routine to her, even when she felt like she was spiraling out of control.  Wake up, get high, go to school, come home, get high, pass out. Everyday for the most part, though some days she didn't bother with the "go to school" part. 

Her parents start to worry about her.  Even her mom.  She hears them talking about her every night when they think she's asleep.   _Dead on her feet_ they say.   _Running with a bad crowd?_ they wonder.  And they're close on her tracks and they're going to find out what she's been up to and Jane feels like the room is closing in on her and she's about to suffocate.  Sometimes she wishes it would; wishes something, _anything_ , would kill her.  Wishes she was already dead.

It wasn't just paranoia, they were close to solving her little puzzle.  One day when Jane got home from school and headed down to her sanctuary, she saw the floorboards had been torn up.  And her stash was missing.  She thought about running then, getting the hell out of there before her parents sent her to rehab or prison or put her in foster care.  But the thinking was pointless, or maybe a little too late, because they were coming down the stairs. 

The  _I care about you_ 's where fake.  They didn't care.  They just didn't want a screw-up junkie for a daughter.  The  _this is what's best for you_ 's where bullshit.  Sending her to rehab was bullshit.  She wasn't hurting anyone besides herself, and as far as she was concerned, she deserved it. 

Her pleas didn't help.  They shipped her off the next morning.  She could see the relief on their faces.  Not the "she's going to get better" relief, but the "she's finally gone" relief. 

\----

Rehab was scary.  Her counselor was scary.  Being surrounded by a bunch of junkies going through detox was fucking terrifying.

 _It's all about accepting who you really are_ , they tell her.  She doesn't know who she is.   All she knows is that who she is, is someone she doesn't want to be anymore.

\----

Rehab takes 18 months, and she's 19 when she finally gets out of there.  Her parents didn't visit her once while she was there, didn't send a letter, didn't even make a fucking phone call.  Maybe they really forgot she existed.  Maybe they hopped on a cruise ship and left the daughter they never wanted and pretended they never had. 

But they're there, at home.  And they're sitting on the couch facing her when she comes in.  Waiting for her.  They hug her and kiss her and pretend that the reason she was gone for over a year was not because they sent her away. 

Dad promises to go to NA meetings with her.  She likes the idea.  Misses when he smothered her.  Mom promises too, but she doesn't go through with it.  Never does.

\----

The first time out of rehab was hard.  She was back there two months later.  The second time was harder.  She only lasted on the outside a couple of weeks.  

It went on and on like this for 8 years.  Then she got her one year chip.  Then 18 months.  And then dad was so proud of her (and maybe finally trusted her enough) to let her manage a condo he owns.

She likes the idea and doesn't intend to fuck it up.  She's going places.  She promises herself she will never use again. 


End file.
